The hostess beams back and nods. “Of course. Follow me.”
She seats us in a corner booth that’s dimly lit and secluded. Dylan gives her a blinding smile and a wink as she hands him the menu.
“Really?” I store my purse beside me and take off my wool coat.
“What’s wrong?” His brows furrow, as if he hasn’t a clue.
“The hostess? You flirt with women everywhere?”
Dylan looks at the hostess, who stands once more near the door of the restaurant. “I was being nice.”
“Your version of nice is an awful lot like my version of foreplay.”
“Baby, you need better foreplay in your life.” He flashes me a confident grin.
My body temperature rises a couple hundred degrees. I drop my gaze from his mouth and the five o’ clock shadow of scruff on his chin to focus on the menu in front of me. “So, what’s your favorite pizza here?”
“Calabrese.” He points at his menu. “But I like variety, so I’ll try anything.”
“I bet. You probably get bored with too much of the same thing.”
He grins at me, his gaze intense. “Some things are so spectacular, I’d never get bored.”
My face heats as he doesn’t look away. “So, Calabrese it is.”
“Am I making you nervous?”
If he thinks he has this kind of effect on me, I’m in trouble. I force a light laugh. “Oh come on. Of course not.” I tilt my head and give him a playful smile. “Tell me about this stress at work. What’s up?”
The waiter fills our water glasses and takes our order. I’m relieved to have time to think about how this evening will play out. Why hadn’t I prepared better for the flirting? I almost snort aloud at the thought. Like calisthenics might’ve prepped me from getting turned on whenever he gives me the smoldering eye.
“Oh,” he says and takes a sip of water. “Just the usual stuff.”
“You acted like something more was going on. That’s what you wanted to talk about, right?”
He doesn’t meet my gaze as he rubs a thumb along the back of his neck. “Well, yeah. It’s a headache sometimes, being in charge of everything, but at the same time I love it. I just didn’t think I’d be taking over for my dad at this point in my life.”
“He’s retired for good?”
“I think so. He was probably unsure at first because he’s always worked so hard. But now it’s been several months and he doesn’t even call to check in. So, yeah. Probably for good.”
I subtly drilled Jordy once after listening to Dylan talking to his mother on the phone. Dylan was so sugary sweet to her, I drooled just listening.
Jordy’s explanation of Dylan’s background consisted of a few concise phrases: only child, doting parents, heir to the multi-million dollar business. In other words, Prince Dylan wouldn’t be interested in a girl whose family has made headline news more than once. And not in a good way.
“And you’re okay with that?”
He’s silent for a second while he studies the table as if he’s never been asked this particular question. He nods and the corner of his mouth tilts up. “Yeah. I get stressed sometimes over the finances. It’s a rush to see success, but I do things differently from my dad and worry that he’ll be disappointed about the changes I’m making. I want to do so much with the business—” He stops suddenly and gets a little-boy grin on his face. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to start going into all that.”
“Why not? It’s the reason I asked. What’s the most exciting and scary thing going on right now?”
He takes a sip of water and gives me a dazzling smile that starts at his mouth but shines from his eyes. “Well, it’s something new for us. And I’ll be sinking marketing dollars into it, but the return will be great. I think. I know.”
“Tell me.”
“Car shows. New models and classics, but inside a showroom where it’s one big party. I partner with the technology companies who do the sound systems for the new models and it’s by invitation only. We serve wine and appetizers. We hire a DJ.”
“Sounds so cool. If I had money to buy one of your cars, I’d love that.”
He takes a deep breath as if he thought I’d have a different reaction. “Thanks. But my dad thinks I’m crazy.”
“I don’t.”
“Thanks. That means a lot to me.”
The waiter returns with the pizza and we grab a slice each. Dylan was right. The Calabrese pizza is fantastic, a real treat since it’s been a while since I’ve had more than a frozen pizza at home.
I lick the rich sauce from my upper lip and notice he’s watching me with an amused expression. Swallowing my unladylike mouthful, I frown.
“I can tell you like it.” He nods slowly. “It’s nice to see a girl eat. The girls I date usually pick around a bowl of lettuce.”
I smirk. “Good thing this isn’t a date.” To prove my point, I take a rather larger bite of pizza. When I finish the bite, he still isn’t doing more than looking at me with a troubled face, his eyebrows lowered. I scowl in return.
“You’ve got some sauce on you.” He leans in and brushes a thumb across my bottom lip. “Got it.”
In the moment he pulls back from me, I feel like an inexperienced teen on my first date. I’ve never been seduced, but I know in this one look and touch, Dylan could turn all my protests into ineffective mumbling.
I fantasize that he sweeps an arm across the table to clear it. He takes my hand to pull me from my chair and lifts me by the waist to sit on the table. And then—
“Emerson?” He’s grinning again. This guy has my number in the way he looks so confident. My fantasies must’ve flashed across my face like a New York billboard.
Where is my resolve to keep my distance, sanity, and job? The hostess seats a couple at the next table and gives Dylan a speculating eye the entire time. I consider tripping her, but I can’t blame her. One wink from him and she’s willing to throw herself on the table as well.
Be strong! No ravishing guy friends on public tables no matter how much sex appeal radiates like a force field around him. I take a deep breath and he’s still looking at me. Avert his attention. I glance at the dish in the center of the table. “I am so full. This pizza’s so freakin' good, I’m going to ask for a doggie bag.”
Dylan laughs and the deep, rolling sound sends a shiver of pleasure all the way to my toes. My mouth tugs up against my will. His mood is as contagious as a yawn.
“I have something else I’d like to do after this.” Dylan glances around for our waiter.
“Oh, yeah? What other things do you do when you hang out with your female friends?”
He makes a face. “What other female friends? Since you’re the sole one I put in that category, this will be a first. You know...consider it a trial and error thing. You can tell me how I do.”
“Okay. What are we doing?”
The waiter places the bill folder on the table and Dylan places cash inside. “Ready to go?”
“We can split the bill.”
Dylan shakes his head. “Not this time. My treat. You can make dinner for me sometime.”